The Rest of Life GSR
by sarapals with past50
Summary: Gil Grissom makes a decision. We know where he finds Sara. This is a little fluffy fun of the time following their meeting. It even has a little bit of sweet smut.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**_ This one is almost totally written by the youngest writer--and we have let her go with it. About 6 chapters, and will be posted over the next 3-4 days as she gets reviews on each chapter (yea, it's blackmail!!). It's complete and the ending is as hot as the tropical rainforest! Enjoy!! (and review!)_

**The Rest of Life Chapter 1**

A month—thirty days—to prepare for the rest of his life. Gil Grissom had made a decision. He had checked his calendar a dozen times in two days as he made calls, wrote emails, and met with the sheriff, Ecklie, a financial planner. Rain marked the beginning of the end if he had been marking a calendar. In reality, he knew the end of one phase and the beginning of another had occurred months ago. It still took thirty days—preparing a house for absent owners, finding a way to announce his decision, making travel plans, finding Hank a temporary home.

A few things had been easy. Finding Hank a home came down to a simple offer from a friend. Dismantling an office of years of accumulated possessions proved to be uncomplicated—he stacked most of it in boxes and put those in the house. Locating Sara had been easier than he thought; most people were romantics at heart and when he explained he wanted to surprise his fiancé, he was provided all the information he needed. His team—Catherine, Nick and Greg—seem to know he had made the decision to leave before he said the words. Catherine had made his announcement easy—she already knew, or at least she said she did; she just did not know details.

The most difficult task has been the push—over a blind precipice into dark drowning depression had been the most difficult forty-eight hours of his life. It would take passage of time before he could look back on those hours with a degree of understanding of the anger, frustration, and sense of isolation he experienced. Even when Warrick died, he had not been as alone as he had been in those hours.

When the message popped up that afternoon and he saw the sender's name, he smiled. He knew she was angry as well as disappointed when he would not go with her, would not leave Las Vegas. He could not leave—everyone, everything depended on his work, physically being at work. It was out of his hands. There was no one to take his place. No one. No one until he got her video. In a very short time, he realized his life was no longer in Vegas.

It had been more than thirty days since they had spoken to each other. Sara had not given him an ultimatum; she had called saying she had volunteered for two expeditions—one at sea, another in a Costa Rican national park. She sent an itinerary by email and a week later, she was gone.

The video opened and he almost reached to touch the screen. She looked rested, calm, peaceful, beautiful. As he watched her face and heard her words, his heart broke—yes, he decided later, he knew the meaning of a broken heart. The heaviness, the hurting in his chest as he watched the video over and over; his phone rang and he ignored it as he replayed her message. He heard her happiness, saw her smile, watched as an expression of uncertainty crossed her face as she repeated his words back to him. He learned what a broken heart meant that day.

Grissom drove in the rain, hearing Sara's voice inside his head. He could not concentrate. He could not hear. His mind jumped from case evidence to the words playing over and over—Sara's words—happy, saying she was gone, not to worry about her, she had found an amazing life. Her voice trembled, her eyes moistened as she said her words, but at the end, she said he shouldn't worry about her. She was good.

She was gone—away from him—further than she had ever been. Even when she left the lab that last night, he had traced her quickly, knowing where she would be. He had always had that connection with her, the ability to know where she was. Not now, she was somewhere in the Pacific telling him she was happy. He was driving in the rain hearing her voice.

…The door opened and he heard his name. He was soaked, miserable, unsure of his actions. He stumbled out his reason for coming—a case, a murder with sadistic wounds. Heather talked, and then she asked questions. She asked about Sara. He bristled, not comfortable when Sara entered the room. Not physically, returning in his mind with her voice when Heather said her name.

Heather asked, "Where is Sara?" and in his face, she realized how desperate, how lost and bewildered his life was. Heather's and Sara's words become the same. He heard Heather saying "most relationships are over before they officially end" and he wanted to object, but her words were Sara's. Confusion whirled inside his head as he agreed to Heather's offer of her guest room.

He slept for the first time in weeks, hours of dreamless sleep in a strange bed provided by Heather. She sat with him as he talked about Sara, and later, when he woke, she gave him tea and food. He knew he would leave Las Vegas. Heather knew he had made a decision. He would find his life, his love, his Sara…


	2. Chapter 2

**The Rest of Life Chapter 2**

He packed two bags, left information, keys, contact numbers, and Hank with Catherine, and flew out early one morning on the first leg of his journey, arriving in San Jose in late afternoon. A local airline to Puerto Jimenez held one reserved seat—in the back row—for him. As the small plane few around mountains and over a dense green rainforest facing a setting sun, he closed his eyes and dosed, knowing that every flight got him closer to the one he sought. He remained quiet as fellow passengers talked in excited tones about where they were going, what they would see. The drone of the plane's engines, the voices cascading around his ears put him to sleep until the plane touched down in the small town.

A taxi and an address got him to a complex of wooden buildings, each one surrounded by a wide veranda. The man who showed him to the elevated cottage promised food and provided details for local shopping, agreeing to stock the kitchen with local vegetables and fruits. Exhausted, and wanting nothing more than food, a shower and sleep, he made two phone calls before falling into a light, fretful sleep in a beautiful room he had not noticed.

By daybreak, he was at the airport, throwing a backpack into a very small plane for a short flight to the research center deep within the national park. He barely noticed the lush tropical rainforest below as the plane circled the grass strip, landed, and came to an easy stop. He and the two other passengers crawled from the Cessna and, before heading to the distant building, Grissom talked with the pilot about a return trip. He waited in line with others as they were given directions, permits, and a dozen answers.

Stating his name, the young ranger smiled, "Dr. Grissom! You got here!" He leaned across the counter and in a hushed whisper said, "Sara left early this morning with a group—I didn't stop her to spoil your surprise." He pulled out a map. "She's here—about a two hour walk, good trail." The ranger glanced at Grissom's pack. "You can easily make it—or stay here until she returns."

"What time do they get back?" Too late to catch the plane back to Puerto Jimenez; he checked his watch. "I'm going to walk in."

The ranger handed him the map and pointed to numbers. "Put these in your GPS. It's an easy walk—hot, humid—you have water?"

He nodded and fiddled with his pocket GPS, hoisted his backpack, checked his water bottles, his rain jacket, jammed his hat on his head and left the station. The trail was well marked, and having no expectations of meeting anyone, he was surprised when people appeared—young serious hikers, families on day outings, and groups of sightseeing tourists. He quickly passed those who were slow moving, and was left by several determined trekkers who had definite destinations and time tables.

Once voices faded, he heard the sound of water, overpowering the faint sounds made by trees on calm days. He heard the chirps, croaks, and calls of forest animals, but, today, his thoughts were on a young woman whose voice, sad, yet calm, reminded him of why he had traveled thousands of miles. He was moving forward; he had made a decision.

He came to a stream, running clear, quite wide, as it slide along fern covered banks and the sun caused a thousand sparks of light to reflect like liquid diamonds. Dragonflies with iridescent wings hovered over puddles and brilliant parrots flew from tree to tree. He paused long enough to drink a canteen of water and eat an energy bar before using large flat rocks as stepping stones across the stream. He did not pause or slow his hike; today was not the day to see the diversity, the insects, birds, monkeys, and other wildlife surrounding him. Today, he would see Sara for the first time in weeks.

Once he crossed the stream, he left the casual visitors. Open woodlands turned into jungle, thick vines, creepers, ferns and palms, as tall trees closed above his head. Birds were everywhere; he could not see most of them, but their sounds filled the air with delicate notes and songs. Once when the path curved, he met several tiny hummingbirds, inches from his face. He paused, but quickly continued.

Sara's voice came to him, "you don't have to worry about me anymore. I'm good. I'm really good…" He had done nothing but worry. He refused to think about possibilities; she knew, as well as he—they could survive anything.

_A/N: Enjoy! Leave a review!_


	3. Chapter 3

**The Rest of Life Chapter 3**

The last hour of walking was damp, the sun hardly showing through the trees above. Sweat ran in rivulets down his back. The track was muddy in places, and almost blocked with forest detritus, but he picked his way around or through it and found the path again. He followed the trail easily as thick reeds and vines formed a dense wall on either side of the path. Checking his position, he realized the camp was just around a slight curve ahead of him and he said a silent prayer.

Sara was in front of him, her back to him as he stumbled to a stop and she turned as if she had heard his prayer. Her hand dropped, her chin trembled ever so slightly. Her eyes watered and then she smiled. He stepped forward, arms outstretched.

Together, they could survive anything. He had found her.

Grissom met other volunteers who offered lunch as he ate with them, sharing food he had packed, but all the while, he hurried. He kept a hand in hers or resting against her back as she gathered her belongings, telling them she—they would return, but they needed to do a few things. Winks and teasing grins followed when she told them it had been weeks since they had seen each other. As soon as the others realized he wanted to fly back to Puerto Jimenez, they hurried them out of the camp.

The return hike took two hours, at times it seemed to take forever, but at other times, the two walked in a daze. Sara would begin to ask a question; his answer was to kiss her. He had no questions to ask; he had found her and she wanted him.

The pilot waited as she crammed clothes, her books and photos, and mosquito netting into a duffle and stuffed it into the plane's storage compartment. Another couple had the double seat which meant an empty co-pilot seat and a small bench in the rear of the plane for Sara and Gil. Sara took the back bench, jammed between luggage and a couple of boxes.

"Tighten your seatbelts; it's going to be a rough ride back," the pilot announced as the small plane gained altitude and his passengers could see rising storm clouds from the south. "We'll beat the weather, but it will be bumpy."

The flight turned into a rollercoaster ride of air pockets and turbulence shaking the small plane as it dipped and banked around mountains and climbed higher to dodge storm clouds. Ten minutes before landing, Sara felt the sudden collection of fluids in her mouth; she tasted the reflux of her stomach contents at the back of her throat. She swallowed, clamped a hand over her mouth as she gagged loud enough for the other woman passenger to glance in her direction.

"Air sick!" The woman shouted above the din of weather and engine. "She needs a bag."

Grissom turned in his seat in time to see Sara pulling off her outer shirt. She brought it to her mouth just as she began throwing up, retching repeatedly, trying desperately to catch her vomit in the thin fabric of her shirt. The pilot yelled something and the woman in the middle row found a plastic bag underneath her seat, throwing it to Sara as she vomited again. The woman passed a bottle of water over the seat. The pilot opened vents and cool air rushed inside the cabin.

Sara continued to retch, bringing up only water, until the plane landed. Grissom and the pilot opened doors before the plane rolled to a stop. Grissom heard Sara saying how sorry she was as the older couple searched for snack crackers for her and climbed out of the plane. The pilot wet Grissom's handkerchief and placed it in her hand, apologizing for the weather, for the turbulent flight.

The four gathered around as Sara insisted, "I'm fine, really, I'm fine." The man offered another bottle of water. "Just air sick." She tried to smile as she wiped her face.

It did not take long to unload her duffle and Grissom's backpack and a couple of laps around the plane on solid ground diminished most of the effects of sickness. The nausea was gone, color returned to her face, and a package of crackers worked a quick miracle in returning her to her usual health. Except for the smell—she knew she smelled as bad as she had ever smelled after dumpster diving. Grissom closed an arm around her and smiled. She knew he was pretending not to notice the offensive odor as he gave instructions to a taxi driver, providing an address and a wad of bills.

The driver took his directions seriously and slowed at stop signs, blowing his horn to warn of his intentions. Within minutes of leaving the airport, they were opening the door of the small house Grissom had rented.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Rest of Life Chapter 4**

"It was just air sickness," Sara insisted.

"I know—I don't want you sick, or feeling sick." Grissom pointed inside. "Enter our temporary home." He smiled. "With a hot shower."

She moved inside, smiling as she discovered the rustic yet beautiful cottage he had found with an internet search. The owner had stocked the small kitchen with enough food for several days. She drank juice as she opened cabinets, pulled blinds up, and opened windows. She entered the bedroom, turning in a slow circle.

"It's beautiful."

He stood in the door, trying to remember what he had noticed the night before, and realized he was seeing the room for the first time. Not the room, he thought, but the beautiful woman who stood beside the bed. She fingered the hanging nets and ran a hand along the bed. She opened French doors to reveal a covered screened porch and cool air filled the room.

"I—I need a shower, Gil." She touched her shirt. "I need clean clothes; my shirt—it's in the plastic bag." She tried to laugh before her voice faltered. "I don't have much with me."

He started toward her with slow, deliberate steps, halting when the toes of his shoes met her hiking boots. His hands touched her arms. He was standing so close that she felt his breath against her cheek. She tried to stop her chin from quivering.

He leaned forward and kissed her bringing a low, hungry groan from deep within his chest. She suddenly felt vigorous, powerful, alive, all essence of tiredness escaping as she responded to his kiss. Sensations from memory returned in a rush as she remembered the passion she felt in his arms. Her hands went around his neck.

Immediately, he was against her, tightly pressing her hips to his and she felt his arousal against her center.

"I need a shower—a real shower."

He deepened his kiss, parting her lips as she pushed fingers through his hair. His right hand found the bottom of her shirt and pushed it up, finding her bra, he worked it above her breasts and closed his hand over her left breast. A delicious, glorious, dizzying consciousness began to build inside her—feelings she remembered as his thumb circled her nipple.

Her fingers found buttons on his shirt and pushed the cloth away as her fingertips moved down his bare chest. She responded to his kiss until necessary breathing made her break from his mouth, kissing his throat, his shoulder, finally resting her head against his neck.

"I need a shower. I want to be clean."

She felt him laugh, silently. "Three minutes will get both of us clean enough." He pulled away and pushed her shirt over her head followed by her bra. His eyes devoured her. "You are beautiful, Sara." When he reached for her again and skin touched skin, another kiss held them together.

Somehow, they managed to undress, dropping clothes from the bedroom into the bathroom—a bright whiteness that sparkled with cleanliness. Neither noticed as shampoo and soap and hot water washed away any remaining reservations of their reunion. His hands gave meticulous attention to every inch of her body as he rediscovered the curves, the slim waist, the long legs, the dimples, the tattoo.

Her eyes closed as his fingers found her most private areas, touching her in the most intimate way, setting off a wonderful feeling of desire as she pressed against his aroused body. She sought more.

"You are ready," he whispered against her mouth, "clean, moist and soft."

"Yes, yes," she answered.

_A/N: I'll post the next chapter in a few hours, so read!! And the next chapter is what a few have been waiting on :)!!_


	5. Chapter 5

**The Rest of Life Chapter 5**

Quickly, towels were found and their half-dry bodies launched into the big bed with its cool white coverings. He rolled on top of her, separating her thighs with a deliberate, easy pressure of his knee, his erection finding the damp, throbbing entrance of her desire. She gasped as he eased himself into her body, filling her completely. He held her face between his hands and kissed her as he begin to move, rocking against her, slowly, cautiously as he drove himself deeper, moving faster as a sweet pressure built within her.

"Sara, Sara, I cannot stop this—forgive me." He groaned, rocked hard against her before he collapsed, wrapping arms possessively around her.

She kept him within her arms, a crescendo building inside her body as waves of contractions tightened and held him to her. His hand covered her breast as he caressed her hard nipple and met her lips with a deep, open, prolonged kiss.

They lay quietly for a time, taking in each other, the stillness of the room, the hushed sounds outside as darkness settled on the small town and its inhabitants. The weight of his body, the lingering warmth and tenderness between her thighs brought a smile to her face.

Grissom stirred, raising himself on elbows to see her face. "I've missed you—not just this, but your presence, your words, your laugh—that giggle, having you with me. I apologize for being so—so quick." He heard the sound gathering in her throat, laughter bubbled to her lips and she lifted her head to kiss him, pulling him against her.

Releasing him, she laughed again, burying her face against his neck. "Oh, you silly man. You've shown remarkable control and restraint from the moment I turned to find you. I could have taken you right there, against a tree, with that monkey throwing rotten fruit at us." She twisted her mouth into a pout. "You know I should be very angry with you right now. You should have let me know you were coming."

It was his turn to laugh as he rolled and sat up, taking time to wrap the sheet around them. "You were in the middle of a jungle." He took her hand and held it between his. "I did have help—the rangers at the station knew I was coming. I got this place for a week. We can decide what to do after that."

"How long can you stay?" She had been so astonished at his arrival and had asked so many questions but each time, he answered with a kiss.

In the dark room, a distant thunderstorm providing flashes of light, she could see the contented smirk on his face, holding back a well-kept secret or some critical knowledge as he had done at work so many times. He lay beside her and smiled a slow, sensual smile.

"Forever."

He kissed her again with a desire so powerful that it threatened to consume everything else. Thunder rolled across the sky as passion roared through his veins. He was already fiercely aroused and the quick confusion in her eyes made him desperate for her again. Her arms went around him, tightly. Her fingertips pressed against his naked back and she opened her mouth allowing him inside, sharing the intimacy of the taste, smell, and touch.

He tried to say something but it came out as mumbled words. He would control himself, he promised; this time he would make sure fulfillment of passion was not one-sided. He slid hands along her abdomen, around to her back, feeling the curve of her hip and the roundness of her buttocks. Just the feel of her, pulled snugly against his groin, was enough to make him groan.

She made a sound and shivered from his touch. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, her shoulder and moved to the tip of her ear, taking the earlobe between his teeth before gently kissing her again. She purred as a contented kitten. Her hand held him tightly as she wrapped one of her legs around his hips.

He drew back to look at her face and another flash of lightening reflected in her brown eyes, an expression of wonder, passion, and excitement in her face. She was his—completely, absolutely, finally. In her eyes, he realized she was thinking the same about him. In a brief moment, her hand had found his fully aroused manhood and as her fingers encircled him, he stopped breathing. Excruciating pleasure, he thought. He smiled as he was forced to stop her hand. He could not do what he intended if he did not stop her.

_A/N: Got busy, so here's the promised chapter! One more chapter!!_


	6. Chapter 6

**The Rest of Life Chapter 6**

Gently, he traced an invisible line from her ear to her breasts, circling each one with light touches of his lips, a kiss, a tickle with his tongue, tasting her as he moved down her abdomen. He moved to the inside of her thigh and felt her hands in his hair. Again, gently, with the slightest pressure, he separated her legs and touched his tongue to her inner leg. She moved, providing more room for him as he found that most intimate place, inhaling her feminine scent.

He tried to speak, but the words never came; only the fragrance of the sea and some unknown magnificent aroma filled his nose and closed his ability to make coherent sounds. He could live the rest of his life on her essence, he thought. His hands raised her knees to either side of his head and his mouth found the small, sensitive bud between her private folds.

Sara's breaths came quickly; her hips moved to meet him, and when he eased one finger into her, she tightened and gasped. His fingers played, moving inside her, finding the pleasure center that is searched for by many yet found by so few. He heard her moan as her hips nudged against him. He sensed her impending climax as her body tensed and tightened. Her hand twisted in his hair. She was lost; he knew there would be no stopping the cascading storm of pleasure.

He moved, propelling himself forward and above her body, slipping into her quickly, as her muscles tightened against him. His mouth clamped against hers as he heard the low sound of passion and desire escape her lungs. And his own waves of pleasure rippled throughout his body. He had found his home, his love, the one destined to be with him when he drew his last breath.

Wrapped together they slept, a tropical thunderstorm raging outside, turning small streams into raging rivers and quieting the weeks of confusion of their own lives. Hours passed before she stirred, opening eyes to find two blue ones watching her.

She rolled to face him, finding warm hands wrapping around her. "Are you really here forever? Not just a few weeks?" She asked.

In the dawn light, against the white sheets, she was beautiful. "I made a decision. I've officially retired. I am with you forever. You will grow tired of me before we are apart again." He said before kissing her.

"You found me." She said, simply, as a smile spread across her face, realizing for the first time what he had said and done—for her.

"Yes. I realized you are a part of me I can not live without. We can go back to the park. We will stay until we tire of birds and insects and frogs and turtles. We can find a home or we can travel—anywhere you want to be, I am with you. You are my home."

She blinked her eyes, rapidly, to prevent tears from falling, and settled against his shoulder. Their hands came together.

"Oh, Grissom, I do love you."

He kissed the top of her head. "I know I belong with you, Sara. Some time ago, I realized you are the only woman I will ever love."

"What if you had not found me?"

He chuckled. "I would have looked for you the rest of my life, dear. I would have been Longfellow's Evangeline to your Gabriel—until my dying day."

She smiled and snuggled closer. "We will live a long time, Gil." Her hand stroked his chin and in minutes, he felt the soft, relaxed breathing as she fell back to sleep. Finally, breaking his restless sleep pattern of past months, he closed his eyes and slept.

Gil and Sara remained in the small rented house for a week, watching the afternoon rains from their private screened porch sharing a hammock, venturing into the small town for food, a new shirt, a handful of postcards, learning a few words of Spanish, and talking—about their future, the present, and the past. They rediscovered their love and devotion to each other, exploring their desires, enjoying time in a new place unhampered by expectations, time, and others.

After a week, they returned to the national park to researchers who welcomed two fellow scientists who required no training to work for hours in the humid environment without complaints, made careful notes, and took detailed photographs. The couple worked for a week, disappeared to some secret hideaway, and returned, rested, ready for any assignment given to them. To other volunteers, Sara and Gil became teachers as they used skills learned in a previous life, former careers, for research in a living, breathing, vibrant environment. They had found each other, a new life, and a home together.

Eventually, Gil and Sara returned to Las Vegas—not to live, but to visit and retrieve their dog. Hank, after months of separation from his real 'parents', showed his happiness and relief at their return by jumping into their bed the first night and wiggling his way between the two, sighing deeply as he lay his head across one, then the other, until all three slept.

They did not stay long in this desert city. The place had sapped too much energy from both in the years they had lived there. They found interim positions in a small college which developed into a new-found love of teaching, and since financial concerns did not motivate either, they found a profession—lively, ever-changing, entertaining, and fulfilling. A happy place for the rest of their lives.

_A/N: Leave a review, send an email! I have printed all of them!! Thanks so much for being positive about my little fanfic!_


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